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I’ll grab my picture and get the hell out.

I slick another layer of lipstick on, make sure my earrings are secure, then I grab my purse, Frankie’s jacket that I promised to drop by on the way to the concert, and hurry out of the house.

“I can do this,” I whisper.

I have time. I’m strong enough.

Dylan’s not here.

I snag the key to Hudson’s extra car, climb in, and zip down the road.

Luckily, Briar and Frankie don’t live far—because L.A. traffic is no joke—so it doesn’t take me long to be bounding up their porch, ringing the doorbell, and smiling as Frankie opens the door.

She looks to be in the middle of dinner—her mouth sporting a chocolate milk mustache and Briar’s on the phone at the mouth of the hall.

She locks eyes with me, mouths, “Sorry,” and I wave her off, holding up Frankie’s jacket.

“Thanks,” she mouths when I hang it on the coat rack. “No,” she says into the phone. “That doesn’t work for us…” Her voice grows quieter as she disappears down the hall.

I’m desperate to get to the house, to get my picture.

But…Frankie.

“Do you need help with dinner?” I ask her.

“Nope.” She shakes her head, ponytail swinging. “Mom’s just…” She scrunches her face up, as though concentrating on her next words and the careful way she says them tells me she’s parroting Briar. “Clearing the decks”—a nod that’s so damned cute my heart squeezes—“so we have no interruptions for Jade’s concert.” Her face brightens. “I told her I want to sing and dance along to every song.”

My feet throb just thinking about it.

But I still smile and say, “Absolutely,” when she asks me to dance with her too.

“Are you going to ride with us?”

“No, sweetheart,” I say, smoothing back her hair. “I have to stop by my house for something, but I’ll meet you there.”

“Uncle Dash’s house?”

“My old house.” I force a smile. “I need to pick up a picture I left behind.”

“A picture?”

“Yeah, sweetie. It’s a really special one of me and my dad. But I’ll grab it really quick and then we’ll dance all night long. Sound good?”

Her lips press flat as she considers that.

Eventually, though, she gives me a sharp nod. “Sounds good.”

I fight a smile, jerk my chin in the direction of the kitchen. “Finish your dinner, peanut.”

“Okay!” She hugs me tightly then runs off, and I move equally quickly to my car. I need to hurry now. Time is getting short, especially having to drive across town.

Traffic is stop and go, but it still seems like mere heartbeats before I’m pulling into the driveway of the ostentatious mansion, eyes searching for any sign of Dylan and his cronies. But the house is quiet, shut up tight…

Exactly as it would be when we were traveling out of the country for work.

I park, pop open the driver’s side door, and then I’m walking up to the house, reaching for the keypad with shaking fingers.

Because this is where this might all go wrong.